The Youth Charter: A sign of things to come?

by Kairen If one volunteers or participates in Youth Leadership events, one would expect a myriad of activities in different settings, with themes that ideally reflect the goodwill the event hopes to foster through strong bonds of camaraderie and community care. So, when I was told to attend an event on Saturday celebrating the opening of the People’s Association’s “Youth Charter,” I expected a pleasant time networking, learning about issues affecting other neighbourhoods, and perhaps making a few new friends. However, upon arrival, I was met with a giant air-conditioned tent occupying what used to be the grand entrance of the Ngee Ann City mall—perhaps the first sign that things would be… peculiar. I mean, were there not other indoor locations that could accommodate the probable thousands of attendees? But they did label it an SG60 signature event… Perhaps it was a grand gesture to reinforce whatever message they intended to convey. So, after queuing for 15 minutes, mere moments before a flash storm, I stepped inside. Inside, the event itself was like any other Youth Leadership gathering—booths representing various organizations seeking volunteers, all adorned with tasteful homages to the nostalgia of HDB void decks. Reinforced cardboard chairs covered in those timeless patterns, an ice cream cart, a kachang puteh stand… Yet, something unsettled me. Why was coconut water being dispensed cold in the same manner one would get beer from a bar? It felt excessive, even though I wasn’t paying for it. Every gulp of that refreshing coastal drink only deepened a lingering sense of unease. I distracted myself by taking a picture with the kayak from Boon Lay’s Youth Network. Fun. Two hours passed, and more thoughts began to ferment as I fed myself a cream croquette from Taka’s second basement floor. Most of these initiatives heavily focused on environmental, mental health, and community concerns. But what about future economic issues? After all, I had to recalculate my personal budget three times to ensure I could afford that delicious fried treat I was eating. Wait—what? The Daily Ketchup is here to conduct a quiz show? I need to record this for my friends; they’ll be so jealous. Soon enough, the event reached its crescendo—the Prime Minister arrived, touring the various stands amid a storm of camera flashes. As I sat patiently, waiting for the grand finale to begin, the event transitioned into a musical number—parodies of popular songs. I tried my best to absorb the messages each act attempted to convey, only to be abruptly switched back into another mode of perception as PA representatives delivered speeches, seemingly placed as strategic ad breaks between performances. Good thing my friend Joshua was recording everything. Maybe we could separate the footage into two different videos to better understand what was happening. At last, the climax—our esteemed leader, Lawrence Wong, took the stage. He thanked the various youths involved in the PAYM’s initiatives, expressing hope that we would continue working with them to tackle the issues we, the youth, care about. He proclaimed that the future is ours to shape—but only if we take action. Between the lines, I felt a flicker of excitement because, realistically, the only way to shape our future is to expand the means through which we can express our opinions to the government. After all, you cannot address the problems plaguing society if fear compels you to self-censor those concerns. And that, at least, is progress. That unspoken message shone brighter than the following procession of grassroots advisors and the Prime Minister himself, each holding transparent LED plastic balls to illuminate a book-like structure. But it wasn’t until I was about to leave that I noticed a piece of decoration that suddenly made everything click together. This entire event—and, to some extent, the Youth Charter itself—was something to be viewed with cautious observation. Cardboard animals, resembling sheep or goats, bore the SG60 logo. Perhaps I was overthinking, but did they have to choose animals historically used as sacrifices to the gods—for an event supposedly centered on the careful expansion of civil rights? Never mind the fact that hosting such a luxurious event amid economic uncertainty might seem misguided. Never mind that the very concept of a government-enforced freedom of speech is unheard of anywhere in the world. Those cardboard animals gave me clarity. If I were to truly voice my opinions on the issues afflicting Singapore… I would still have to pay a heavy price. Not as steep a price as in the past, but certainly enough to deter anyone from addressing the systemic problems that could unravel everything if left unchecked. Until I see reason to believe otherwise, I will hold my tongue, as I have in the past—for the sake of my family, my friends, and my own sanity.